His Emergency Fiancée (16 page)

* * *

Which was how he ended up taking Selina out for a Chinese meal. Selina, the liaison officer from the local college who’d wanted him to talk to her students…and who wanted a little more than that, too. Selina was elegant, beautiful, clever, good company—all the things he usually looked for in a girlfriend. And she was definitely interested in him. Interested enough to slip her shoe from her foot and slide her toes underneath the edge of his trousers as they drank white wine, waiting for their meal to arrive.

The old Ben would have smiled and capitulated. Flirted back. Played footsie under the table then taken her back to her place so they could get to know each other better. A lot better.

The new Ben wanted to run a mile. He was shocked to feel so embarrassed and out of place, and even more shocked to realise that this wasn’t the foot he wanted caressing him.
That
foot belonged to someone else. Someone who was beautiful in a quiet, understated way. Someone whose mind worked faster than his own. Someone he was comfortable with. Someone…who was firmly off limits.

And he wasn’t going to start thinking of her now.

He made an excuse about needing to use the men’s room. It was as he made his temporary escape that he saw the group of hospital staff at the other end of the restaurant. A group that included Kirsty.

* * *

It was barely ten days since they’d last slept together, and he was already seeing someone else! The woman she’d seen him with in the hospital restaurant, with a smile as wide as the whole room. A smile that said Ben was all hers. And Kirsty knew from experience what was going to happen next.

No. She really couldn’t bear this. She couldn’t stay and watch him flirt with the woman. Especially when she could still remember what had happened in the linen cupboard, the last time she’d seen the woman with Ben. Something that would never, never happen again.

If he dared bring that woman back to their house, she’d kill him!

‘Kirst, are you OK?’ Jenny asked.

No, she wasn’t. But Jenny had just given her the perfect excuse. ‘Actually, I think I might be coming down with the lurgy that’s doing the rounds,’ Kirsty said. ‘My head feels like someone’s been using it for target practice.’

‘I’ve got some paracetamol in my bag,’ Nina offered.

‘Thanks, but I think I’d be better off going home and having an early night.’ Kirsty gave them a wan smile and fished in her purse for some money. ‘Here. This is my share of the bill. Have a good time, and hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Let me call you a taxi,’ Jenny said.

‘The walk’ll do me good.’ And if she waited for a taxi, Ben would see her. She didn’t particularly want to face him. Not until she’d got her best-friend-Kirst act firmly in place again. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Before anyone else could protest—and, more importantly, before Ben came back from the loo—Kirsty had gone.

* * *

Ben stared at his reflection. ‘It’s not going to work, is it?’ he asked the mirror. The moment he’d seen Kirsty, Selina had gone completely out of his mind. But what was he going to do about it? He’d already hurt Kirsty enough. Though the look that had just flashed over her face—before her eyes had shuttered and she’d turned away—told him he’d just made things a lot worse.

He couldn’t—
couldn’t
—give her the commitment she so clearly wanted.

The only way out of this mess would be to find her someone who could. Except he didn’t know anyone who was good enough for her. A dating agency perhaps? Run a personal ad on her behalf and go through the replies himself? No, to both. He didn’t want her fixed up with someone he didn’t know, someone he couldn’t trust never to hurt her.

You’re being a dog in the manger, he warned himself. You don’t want anyone to have her just because
you
can’t have her.

Except he could have had her for ever. All he’d had to do was ask. And instead he’d thrown it all away.

Soberly, he walked back out to the restaurant and rejoined his date.

‘Hi,’ Selina purred.

He was about to say, Hi, yourself, when he remembered who usually said that to him. He really, really shouldn’t be here. ‘Selina…I think we need to talk.’

‘Oh?’ Her blue eyes turned wary.

‘It’s not you. It’s me,’ he explained, feeling a complete and utter bastard as he saw the resignation flit over her face. ‘Really. Anyone would be proud to go out with you—you’re gorgeous and you’re good company.’ And now he sounded all oily and gushing, a complete sleaze-ball. ‘The thing is, I’ve just split up with someone. I thought I was over it but…’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve realised it’s too soon. Maybe if we’d met in a few months’ time, things could have been different. I don’t want to mess you about, so…can we just spend the evening together as friends?’

‘Sure.’ Selina’s chin lifted.

It had to be hurt pride, Ben thought. She couldn’t have fallen for him
that
quickly. Right now, he didn’t like himself very much; he didn’t see how anyone else could like him either.

He desperately wanted to talk to Kirsty—but how could he do it without making Selina feel as if he’d just dumped her for a better option? Maybe he could draw attention to the hospital crowd, say there was someone he needed to talk to about a case…Yes, that would do it.

‘Sure. Go ahead,’ she replied when he made the tentative suggestion. Her expression said she didn’t believe a word of it.

Embarrassed and relieved at the same time, Ben headed over to Kirsty’s table.

She wasn’t there.

‘I thought I recognised your voice,’ he said to Jenny. But where was Kirsty? Loo, probably, he thought. He tried for lightness. ‘Kirst not with you tonight?’

‘No.’

No? But he’d seen her there only a few minutes before! And she’d seen him, he was sure of it.

‘She’s going down with the lurgy,’ Nina said, ‘but she wouldn’t let us call her a taxi. You know Kirsty.’

‘Stubborn as a mule,’ he said wryly.

‘We were, er, sorry to hear about the split, Ben,’ Jenny said.

‘It happens.’

‘Though you’re still friends?’ Nina queried.

He nodded.

‘Must be hard, sharing a house now,’ Jenny commented.

That was one way of putting it. ‘We manage.’ He gave them a thin smile, knowing that he deserved the interrogation, and knowing that the group would all notice Selina within moments and draw their own conclusions. His ears would be burning for the rest of the evening, and deservedly so. ‘See you later,’ he said, and slunk back over to Selina.

Did Kirsty really have the lurgy? Or was it an excuse because she couldn’t face seeing him with someone else? Guilt flooded through him and the meal he shared with Selina tasted like ashes. He felt even worse when he found himself asking his date to repeat her questions, time after time, because he simply wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts kept drifting back to Kirsty and there was nothing he could do to stop them.

‘Is everything all right? With your patient, I mean?’ Selina asked.

Patient? What patient? Oh, yes. The one he’d invented so he could go over and talk to Kirsty. Except she hadn’t been there. ‘Yes, everything’s fine, thanks.’ Which was the biggest lie he’d told yet. This lying business was getting tricky—no wonder Kirsty was so dead set against it. ‘I’m sorry. I…’

‘Typical doctor. Mind on your work,’ she said generously.

He agreed gratefully. ‘I’m sorry this evening’s been such a wash-out.’ He didn’t dare suggest trying to make up for it on another occasion. He had a nasty feeling that the next time would be even worse. ‘I’ll see you home,’ he said quietly.

‘That’s OK. I’ll get a taxi.’

‘I’ll ask them to order one when they bring our bill,’ Ben said, signalling to the waitress.

He paid the bill, refusing to let Selina go halves with him. It was the least he could do, considering what a rotten evening he’d given her. If he’d met her before Scotland—before he’d fallen into bed with Kirsty—things might have been different. But right now his whole life was a mess, and he didn’t have a clue how to get it back to the way it had been. The way he’d liked it, with Kirsty as his best mate and his love life on a more even keel.

When he’d seen Selina safely into the taxi, he thought about going home—then changed his mind. He had no idea what he was going to say to Kirsty and he didn’t want to make things even worse between them. Instead, he headed for the beach and sat on the shingle at the edge of the sea with his knees bent and his arms wrapped round them. It was too early in spring for anyone else to be wandering along the beach at night, so he had just the stars and the sound of the waves swishing over the stones for company. The soft, regular murmur of the sea soothed him and he lost track of time as he sat there, occasionally throwing a flattish stone into the waves and watching it skim over the water’s surface.

Eventually, the shingle started to dig into him. Time to head for home and face Kirsty. He still had no idea what to say to her, but somehow he’d find a way to make things all right. He
had
to.

* * *

There was no point in crying. It wasn’t going to make Ben love her, was it? But Kirsty couldn’t stop herself. Thinking of Ben in Selina’s arms, sharing the pleasure he’d once given to
her
. That smile, the one that included only his lover and excluded the rest of the world. The look in his eyes. The sultriness in his voice.

Why did he have to be the one she’d fallen in love with? Why couldn’t she have fallen for someone who’d actually let her into his life? Someone who wasn’t terrified of even the word ‘commitment’?

Why couldn’t
she
have been the one he wanted, the love of his life?

She knew she was asking for the impossible: that Ben should love her back. But she couldn’t help wanting it. Wanting him to hold her, wanting to feel the softness of his skin against hers, wanting to smell his clean, masculine scent. Wanting him to kiss her, make the whole world go away with his love-making. Wanting to be with Ben, secure in his bed and in the knowledge that he loved her as much as she loved him. But it was never going to happen.

Kirsty buried her face in the pillow, but it didn’t stop the tears leaking out onto the cotton. And it didn’t stop the ache in her heart.

* * *

The house was in complete darkness. If Kirsty really was coming down with the lurgy, she’d probably taken some paracetamol and gone straight to bed. If she wasn’t…then he was the last person she’d want to see anyway. But he couldn’t let this rest.

Hating himself for what he’d done to her, desperate to make things all right again, Ben went upstairs and knocked softly on her door. ‘Kirst?’

* * *

She was hallucinating. The luminous hands on her clock said it was way too early for Ben to be home. Surely he should be with the lovely Selina, dancing the night away in a club before going back to her place?

Or…No. He wouldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t have brought Selina back here with him…would he?

Kirsty ground her teeth and refused to answer.

To her horror, she heard the door handle turn, and light from the hallway filtered into her room as he opened the door.

Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

She tried to make her breathing sound deep and even. If he thought she was asleep he’d go away…wouldn’t he?

* * *

Maybe Kirsty really did have the lurgy. She hadn’t answered him, and Kirsty wasn’t the sort to sulk. Whenever he’d upset her in the past, he’d known about it because she’d never minced her words. Things had changed between them lately, but surely
that
hadn’t?

Part of him yearned to go over to her. As a doctor, he really ought to check her temperature—if she’d gone down with a fever she really needed tepid sponging and paracetamol. Ah, who was he trying to kid? He just wanted to be close to her. And he dared not. He couldn’t offer her anything more than friendship and it wasn’t fair to ask for more from her when he could give nothing in return.

Annoyed by his selfishness, he closed the door.

* * *

Kirsty could hardly breathe. Had he left her room—or was he about to walk over to her bed? She waited, her heart rate increasing with every second that passed. Then, as she realised that he’d left, a hollow feeling settled in her stomach. What was the old saying? Be careful what you wish for…

Well, that’d come true, all right. And it was her bad luck it hadn’t been an earlier wish instead.

CHAPTER TWELVE

B
EN
was up early the next morning. If Kirsty was still feeling rough, she’d need something light for breakfast and he’d ring in sick for her. If she wasn’t feeling rough…well, this would be the start of his apology. He made her some porage; while the cereal was thickening he squeezed a couple of oranges and poured the juice into a glass. He just resisted the impulse to add a flower to the tray—she’d probably throw it back in his face if he did that, and he acknowledged wryly that it was what he deserved—and carried it upstairs.

But Kirsty had clearly got up even earlier than he had, and quietly enough so as not to wake him. Because, when she didn’t answer his tentative knock and he opened the door, balancing the tray on one arm, her curtains were open and her bed was neatly made.

Which meant that things between them were even worse than he thought.

Sighing, he took the tray downstairs again. He managed three mouthfuls of the porage before it choked him and he scraped the rest of the bowl into the bin. He gulped down the orange juice and washed up, vowing that he’d catch up with her at lunchtime and start to make things right then.

He didn’t get the chance. A pile-up involving a chemical spill outside Southbay kept the A and E team rushed off their feet, while the queue of minor problems that usually came in during the day grew and grew. Ben ended up staying well past the end of his shift, with too many demands on his time to let him even think about Kirsty.

* * *

Kirsty, too, was busy, in Theatre. And stewing. She’d made another mistake this morning by asking Chambers a question. She and Paul had been discussing the merits of stapling and stitching over the last few days, and she’d raised the subject of whether stapling would be better than stitching in this case. The last thing she’d expected had been for Chambers to take it as a personal attack.